


What Is Now (And What Will Take Place Later)

by Camden



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camden/pseuds/Camden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Kris awakes in the body of his favorite porn star - Jack Swallow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Is Now (And What Will Take Place Later)

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on [](http://weddingbeaches.livejournal.com/profile)[**weddingbeaches**](http://weddingbeaches.livejournal.com/) for getting me to read body-swap fics even though she doesn't really know about that. Beta by [](http://aki-hoshi.livejournal.com/profile)[**aki_hoshi**](http://aki-hoshi.livejournal.com/).

  
**What Is Now (And What Will Take Place Later)**

  
The first waking thought Kris has is that he really should have laid off the beer and cheese fries last night because he feels big.

He tries rolling over and he startles the rest of the way awake because this isn't the heaviness of greasy food still in need of digesting. It's a heaviness of being _heavier_ than usual, which makes the kind of sense that isn't.

The other thing that's really bizarre is that his morning wood feels positively huge, which should be a good thing. Because really, what guy calls up his doctor in a panic because his own dick seems bigger? But it adds to the sense of not-right, and he stretches a hand down experimentally.

"Oh wow," he says aloud to the empty room, because _oh wow_. Either his cock has grown several inches overnight or something massively fucked-up is going on.

He throws the crisp hotel sheets off and looks down at himself and his new, enormous appendage.

Okay, _so_ not his body. Any of it.

Panicking, Kris stumbles out of bed, his larger-than-usual limbs clumsy and hard to control with his used-to-a-smaller-body brain.

The shit really hits the fan when he skids to a stop in front of the bathroom mirror and realizes that the face looking back at him not only doesn't belong to him, but _does_ belong to his very favorite porn star, Jack Swallow.

And this is extra-batshit because not only has Kris never had any interaction with Jack Swallow – other than jerking off to his movies – he's never told anyone about his slight obsession with Jack. Even crazier, he's never told anyone he's _gay_.

Not for any good reason; it's just never come up.

Plus, it's been a really wild year. First, he won American Idol, beating the pants off Danny Gokey in a finale that's rumored to have been a landslide. Second, his wife of less than a year filed for divorce, claiming that she didn't want a husband who saw his limo driver more often than he saw her. Which is probably a fair criticism. Third, he embarked on a whirlwind concert tour with the other finalists which had landed him in this hotel in Topeka. And most recently, he woke up in the body of a very hot gay porn star.

So he's been a little busy, which is totally an excuse for not saying anything to anyone. Besides, what would he say? "After Katy left me, I decided to go online to explore those feelings about dudes that I'd been repressing since puberty and I realized that my marriage probably never would have worked out in the long run because I'm really, _really_ , actually as gay as the day is long, and I've worked myself into quite a crush on a tall, dark, and handsome porn star who rose to prominence by starring in a series of pirate-themed pornos called _Ass-Pirates of the Caribbean,_ " isn't really the sort of thing you can just say to someone, especially not without working up to it first.

He's not particularly close to any of his Idol tourmates. He likes most of them a lot – although he could do without having to rise out of a trap door in the stage with a sweaty Danny Gokey every night – but none of them are really the kind of friends he could talk about his sexuality with. Matt has a deep and abiding love for vagina, so he wouldn't get it at all. Plus he'd probably laugh. And Alexis is blonde and female and even though she's totally night-and-day-different from Katy, he can't bring himself to approach her about it. He's got a few friends from back home who might sort of understand, or would at least be supportive, but who knows when he'll have time to see them, and it's really not a phone-call kind of discussion. And he's really not ready to tell his parents, especially since they're still sort of heartbroken that his marriage didn't last.

However, if there's no one he can talk to about being gay, there's _really_ no one he can talk to about having just awakened as a porn star.

The first order of business is peeing, which is really hard to do with an erection the size of Jack's. He really hoped the panic would wilt it, but apparently Jack's stamina is legendary for a reason. He crouches with his arm on the toilet tank and examines the freckles on Jack's arm. He'd never realized that Jack Swallow had _freckles_.

It's endearing and human and it makes him suddenly acutely aware that Jack is a real live person who's probably wondering where his body is right now.

After he flushes, he takes a few moments to scrutinize himself in the mirror. Jack is even hotter live and in the flesh, and Kris can't resist a little self-examination. He's quite a bit taller than usual, and his shoulders are broader, tanned and freckled. Jack's got a bit more meat on him all around in a brawny sort of way, but he's still thin and lithe. He looks like he got his physique lifting bales of hay – or twinks – all day long instead of in a gym. And he's got freckles _everywhere_. Either porn lighting is just that bad, or they must break the bank on body make-up to make these disappear.

Although Jack is clearly no stranger to make-up, as there's quite a bit, smeared now but still vibrant, ringing his wide blue eyes. There are also flecks of glitter on his lips indicating that he was wearing some kind of lipgloss or something earlier. He licks his lips experimentally and he can kind of taste it. Then he realizes he's licking Jack Swallow's lips and it gets a little awkward for a second.

Shaking his head, he runs his hand through the spiky black hair, finger-picking it into place. It's still full of gel or mousse or something from whatever Jack was doing before Kris ended up with his body, so it goes back into something of a style pretty easily.

He's just leaning close to the mirror to take note of the freckles on his – Jack's – lips, when there's a loud knock on the door. Kris immediately panics and searches for something to throw on. His robe looks comically small on Jack's body, but it covers the good parts, and he hurries to look through the peephole. He's assuming it'll be management and he's trying to think of a convincing lie for why he's missing and there's a porn star in his hotel room, but instead through the peephole, he sees… himself.

He flings open the door and his body says, "Oh thank god," and pushes into the room, closing the door behind him. He's wearing jeans and a shirt that are a bit too big and clutching a sort of girly-looking man bag, but otherwise he looks like himself.

Kris looks down into his own face – is he really that short? – and says, "Are you…?"

"Just looking for my body." So it is Jack Swallow in Kris's body. A clean swap. That's much easier than if various brains and bodies had been redistributed throughout the globe or something. "Can you imagine what I thought when I woke up and I was the American Idol? That's pretty fucking weird, seriously. And you can be thankful that I wasn't in bed with someone. Just what your career doesn't need is a gay sex scandal. Because I'm gay, by the way. Publically gay."

"I know. I know who you are," Kris says, completely without thinking, and he has the unsettling experience of watching his own face go heated and predatory.

"Oh do you?" Jack says, smirking through Kris's mouth. "And here I was being all thrilled that you were famous because I thought to myself, gee, if I'd gotten up in some random guy's body, how would I ever find him? Myself? You know what I mean. So I thought, well, it ought to be easy to find _Kris Allen_ because he's a _celebrity_. Little did I know Mr. Married-to-a-Girl would have been able to find lil' ol' me."

"I'm not married anymore," Kris says, which is so not the point, and Jack smirks at him again. "Never mind. Anyway, we need to fix this. I have a concert tonight. And while you're very talented, Jack, I don't think what you can do is what these people paid to see."

"Adam," Jack says, running his hand through Kris's hair and then scowling when he discovers it's too short to be good for running through. "My name's Adam. Jack Swallow is just a stage name. No one calls me that."

"Fine, _Adam_ ," Kris says, liking that better. "We still need to fix this. Concert. Tonight. Remember?"

"Actually, I can sing," Adam says defensively. "Probably better than you."

"Well, that's just nifty, but can you also play the guitar and the piano and do you know all the choreography for the group number?"

Adam scowls. "Well la-di-da, Mr. Multi-Talented."

"Stop calling me Mr. something," Kris says. "And hey, I'm sorry if you thought I was implying that you're not talented, or that what you do isn't a skill, because trust me, I've enjoyed your work more than... But it's not going to go over well if you're doing in on stage with Danny Gokey."

Adam pantomimes barfing. "I always hated that guy. I was so glad when you won. Also, we're going to be discussing how much you _enjoy_ my _work_ later," he says, the disconcerting smirk that's clearly Adam's stretching Kris's face.

Not if Kris has anything to do with it, they won't be, but there's no time to argue as there's another knock on the door. They look at each other, realizing that there's no other brain or body to account for, and it's going to be someone who doesn't know what the hell is going on. "You get it," Adam hisses.

Kris rolls his eyes. "You're me! You get it!"

"I won't know who it is!" Adam protests, and Kris gulps. He runs to the peephole. It's a PA named Kathy, who is hopefully just coming to check on him. "Just a second," Adam calls in Kris's voice, buying them a few seconds.

Kris presses close to Adam and whispers, "Her name is Kathy, I don't know her too well. Just be polite but not too familiar. She's probably just coming to see if I need anything."

Adam nods and goes to open the door while Kris books for the bathroom. He hunches behind the door as Adam says, "Morning, Kathy!"

He sounds a little too peppy to be Kris in the morning, but Kathy shouldn't notice. "Hey Kris. I just brought your schedule. You have a couple of interviews before the show, just downstairs in one of the conference rooms. Do you want someone to bring you lunch before?"

"Okay, thanks. And sure, that would be great! You're a doll," Adam tells her, and Kris winces.

He wishes he could see Kathy's reaction, but her voice sounds pleasant enough when she agrees and says goodbye. As soon as the door's closed, Kris launches himself at Adam. " _You're a doll_? I would _never_ say that!"

"Well, fuck! I don't know you! I mean, I saw you on the show and whatever, but it's not like I've been watching all your interviews to study your personality. Or lack thereof," he finishes in a mutter.

"You can't go to those interviews. We have to say I'm sick. Or maybe dead."

"Or maybe we can just try to figure out how this happened," Adam suggests helpfully.

"Yeah, good luck with that. Are you friends with any voodoo daddies?"

"No, but I do know a lot of leather daddies."

Kris sinks down on the bed and wishes he had his own head to put into his own hands, but he makes do.

~*~

Two hours later, they've reconstructed every step of their last forty-eight hours and split the club sandwich and chips that Kathy had sent up.

Kris is still googling stuff, but most of what he's coming up with is definitely in the fictional sector of science fiction. Adam's on the phone with someone who he calls his "very most in touch with the dark side in a good way friend" that he's been trying to get a hold of for ages – apparently she's very good and very in demand – and he's trying to convince her that he's himself, even though he's got a Southern accent now.

When he finally hangs up, he says, "She's going to perform a counter-spell," with a huge sigh of relief.

Kris is not at all relieved. "A spell? Will that work? This isn't Hogwarts."

Adam rolls his eyes – Kris's eyes – and says, "How do you think we _got_ this way in the first place?"

"A secret government experiment?" Kris suggests.

"I think the government would pick more subtle test subjects than the reigning American Idol and a porn star. Speaking of which, I didn't tell her that you knew me because I have _some_ tact, despite what you seem to think, but she says this has to be deliberate."

"So?"

"So, _someone_ must have known that you… _know_ me, and thought this little stunt would be funny. Because other than having eyes enough to realize you're cute, I didn't really know much about you before today. No offence. So this has to be on your end."

Kris thinks about that for a second. It's not as if he didn't realize that his jerking off to Adam – Jack Swallow – nearly once a day for the last few months probably had something to do with why he woke up in his body. To be honest, he'd sort of thought it had to have been self-afflicted somehow. But he certainly hadn't performed a _spell_ (unless his dick was a magic wand), so someone else knew. And this was their idea of a joke.

"Shit," Kris says.

"Yes. And your concert is pretty well fucked because she can't do the spell until some star aligns with some other one or something, which isn't until like midnight tonight. Also, we better come up with some excuse soon because you're supposed to interview with WBNG 'The Bing' in forty-five minutes," Adam says, waving the paper Kathy had dropped off.

Ten minutes later, Adam is tucked into bed after having doctored his – Kris's – face with make-up out of his bag, and he looks convincingly sick as long as you don't look too closely. Kathy arrives and Kris crouches nervously in the bathtub as Adam claims the club sandwich must have given him food poisoning. "The mayonnaise… It must have been tainted…" he gasps, much too theatrically to be Kris.

"Do you want some water…?" Kathy asks, edging towards the bathroom. Kris crouches lower in the tub, trying not to breathe.

"No!" Adam gasps. "I'll just throw it right up again. Or shit it out. It's bad, Kath. Real bad."

Kris knocks his head against the side of the tub, but fortunately Kathy just slinks out of the room, promising to take care of everything including testing the mayo in the hotel kitchen.

When she's gone, Kris comes out and resists the urge to kick Adam. He'd only bruise his own body, which he's hoping to regain control of soon. "You are the worst me _ever_ ," he tells Adam.

"Psh. I'd like to see you try to be me. Can you even suck dick?"

Kris stubs his toe on the coffee table and falls sideways onto the couch in an ungainly fashion.

"I didn't think so," Adam says, smug.

"It was just your big feet," Kris complains. "How do you walk around like this?"

"Habit. And you didn't seem to mind my big… _feet_ before."

"Shut up," Kris says, ducking to hide his smile.

"So," Adam says conversationally, as if they're just going to hang out and chat until the stars align, "how does a nice boy like you end up becoming the American Idol?"

"I don't know, how did you end up becoming a porn star?" Kris means it to be teasing, but it comes out kind of bitchy, and he's opening his mouth to apologize but Adam just shrugs.

"It was a total accident, I assure you. I wanted to be a rock star." He gives Kris a slightly sheepish look, like Kris will judge him for that.

"Don't look at me. I'm not a rock star either."

"Closer than I am," Adam mutters. "But anyway, I cut demos, I shopped around, but I kept hearing the same thing: 'We're not looking for a glam-electronica rocker who wants to sing about fucking boys.' It was very discouraging. And everyone kept telling me to do musical theater. Can you imagine me in _Oklahoma_?"

Kris most definitely can not, neither the musical nor the state, but he doesn't say so. He's already been borderline rude once. Also, he's a little freaked out by watching his own body telling someone else's story.

"So one of my friends, an ex-boyfriend really, told me that one of his acquaintances from somewhere wanted to make a porno about pirates. I thought this was just another harebrained scheme cooked up by one of Brad's psycho friends, so when Brad bugged me to see the guy about being in it, I figured what the hell, right? Plus Brad can be _very_ convincing, especially when he's telling you how talented an actor you are and how huge your cock is and how well you use it and how it's a crime not to share that with the world. He ought to be a pimp."

Kris snorts at that, but Adam ignores him. "So I did the movie and it ended up being a big deal. Well, you know. _You've_ probably seen it. So people wanted to pay me to keep doing it, and it's hard to say no to that. It's not a ton of money for the actual movies, but there are the public appearances and the endorsements and the websites. It's a good living. And I'm good at it," he finishes, smug and almost daring Kris to disagree.

"Yeah, I guess you are," Kris admits, because he's already copped to watching Adam's movies. It would be disingenuous to lie. Wanting to change the subject, he asks, "Do you still sing?"

"Not in public. No one wants to see me _sing_." He sounds sad about that, and Kris feels for him.

"Sing something for me," he asks.

"I have _your_ voice, idiot. You've heard yourself sing. You want to hear my voice, you sing."

That's such a mindfuck that Kris just shrugs. "I'll wait until you're in your own body."

"Suit yourself," Adam says with a shrug. "And now I showed you mine, so tell me your story."

Adam's starting to annoy him a lot less, and Kris is feeling expansive, so he hauls Adam's long legs onto the couch and tells him.

~*~

Kris is just starting to get comfortable enough that he's thinking about dinner, when Adam says, "So did you jerk me off?"

" _What_?"

"I mean, not me, like here," he says, gesturing to his dick, which is actually Kris's dick, and oh god. "I mean, you woke up with my cock. And you said you liked my movies, so I was wondering if you…" He sounds more curious than smug when he says it – a departure for him – but Kris still goes funny in the stomach.

"I did not!" he protests, thinking of how he'd touched it in the morning, when he hadn't known he wasn't himself. Or whatever. "The only thing I did with it was pee, I swear."

"Mmmhm." Adam doesn't sound like he's convinced.

Suddenly he has a thought. "Wait, why are you asking? Did you do me?" The thought is disturbing but arousing. Kris shifts nervously on the couch.

"No, but I wish I would have now," Adam says, looking down at his borrowed body. "I always thought you were cute, but now that I'm getting a closer look, I'm upgrading to hot." He lifts the hem of his shirt and runs his hands over his stomach.

Kris isn't one to get excited looking at himself, but knowing that Adam's in there, doing it, makes it kind of sexy.

"You know," Adam says, in a falsely innocent tone, "sometimes spells like this can be broken by sex."

Kris gulps, because he had seen that online, but he'd thought it was just crap. Of course, he'd also thought spells that could switch your body with a porn star's were crap, too, so what did he know? The whole thing is creepy to the max, though, and he says, "I'm not fucking myself with your dick," and then claps his hand over his mouth, because _that_ sounds like a statement no one should ever utter.

"Oh, _baby_ ," Adam says in a patronizing tone that sounds just so wrong coming out in Kris's voice, "It's adorable that you think _you_ would be fucking _me_."

Kris tries to scoff manfully, but it comes out a little strangled. He's well aware of the role Jack Swallow plays most often in films. "I'm not some little twink you can just throw around," he complains.

"Well, you're kind of little, but definitely not a twink," Adam says, flexing Kris's biceps experimentally and tracing the muscles with his fingers. It's Kris's turn to smirk because while he's not a vain guy, he does like to know his efforts in the push-up department are appreciated.

Just when Kris is feeling like he's made his point, Adam looks at him – Kris has never seen _that_ look in his own eyes before – and says, "I'd still hold you down and fuck the hell out of you. And you'd let me."

Just like that, all the blood is rushing downwards, and Kris has to clench his fists, Adam's fingernails with their chipping purple nail polish digging into the palms hard enough to hurt.

Kris is trying to think of something to say when Adam swings himself off the bed, and says – far too cheerfully – "So how about some dinner? You're going to have to fetch it as I'm at death's door."

In that moment, Kris hates him more than a little bit.

"I'm supposed to go out and get food like this?" he asks, waving his hand to encompass his ensemble, which at the moment consists of a too-small bathrobe.

"Well, I could do something about that for you if you want," Adam says, licking his lips.

Kris's stomach drops out as he realizes that a) Adam was referring to his hard-on, and b) that Adam can _see_ his hard-on. "You're not blowing yourself with my mouth, either, egomaniac. Those are your clothes, right? Take them off and I'll put them on. You can put on something of mine."

"Oh, you'd like me to get naked, wouldn't you?" Adam purrs.

"It's _my_ body!" Kris cries, exasperated. "I've seen _myself_ naked plenty of times! I'm not Amish for fuck's sake!"

Adam finally seems to realize the futility of the situation, and he slinks off the bed, defeated, and strips. Even though it's his own naughty bits, Kris still averts his eyes out of politeness as he grabs the clothes and takes them into the bathroom. When he comes out, Adam's wearing some of Kris's pajamas. "I'm supposed to be sick," he says, explaining the outfit. He seems to have lost some of the attitude, and Kris feels strangely like he ought to apologize.

He shakes it off, though, and asks, "What do you feel like eating?"

~*~

Kris returns with burgers and fries, sneaking back into the room lest anyone wonder why Kris is having handsome strangers visit his sickbed. Adam has moved to the couch, and he's sprawled out, picking at Kris's guitar. He looks up guiltily and says, "I wanted to see if the talent transferred. Like, muscle memory? But apparently you need your brain to play the guitar."

It's almost – god help him, he nearly thinks 'cute' – nice to see a side of Adam that's not smirking and slinking and prowling. Kris dumps the food on the coffee table and wheels the desk chair over so he doesn't sit too close to Adam. "So," he says, searching for a neutral topic, "I was wondering how you managed to find me so quickly. I mean, this is _Topeka_."

"Oh, Twitter, of course," Adam says. "You can keep track of anyone that way. I was in New York, so I was able to get a flight. I was partying last night and I dozed off right when I got home. I wasn't asleep for more than a half an hour when I got this, like, jolt? Like when you get that feeling like you're falling? It woke me right up and I knew something wasn't right. It was only like five in the morning then, so I was able to panic for a little bit, find where you were, and catch a plane."

"Makes sense. I didn't feel anything when it happened. Of course, we got here after midnight after travelling all day. And we had a show last night so I was already tired. I fell asleep about one and was out like a light until about twenty minutes before you got here. So I didn't have a lot of time to panic. Or jerk off," he finishes pointedly, realizing with some joy that he can lift one of Adam's eyebrows much more easily than he can his own.

"Stop playing with my eyebrows. You're making me look like an idiot," Adam complains.

Kris throws a fry at him, and they laugh. It's almost like hanging out with a buddy or something until Adam says, "So how come you got married if you're gay?"

"That's kind of a personal topic isn't it?" Kris says, blushing a little.

"You're wearing my underwear. Fuck, you're wearing my _kidneys_. I don't think there's such a thing as personal right now."

It's really sort of true, so Kris sighs and does his best to answer. "I started dating my wife when I was young. That's what you do, especially where I'm from. You date a girl. I didn't know any gay guys and no one talked about it."

"Not in a pleasant way, at least," Adam says, and Kris shrugs, embarrassed, but not able to disagree.

"No. I knew I was attracted to guys, but I was attracted to my wife too. I mean, I was sixteen when I started dating Katy. I was attracted to lots of people then. I was horny."

Adam nods and makes an 'of course' sort of gesture, because every guy knows what that's like.

"Anyway, life just kept moving forward and we were still together. We broke up for a little while at one point, and I honestly thought about doing some _experimenting_ during that time, but… I don't know. I would have had to seek it out and I guess I wasn't really ready then. And then she wanted to get back together, and it was just easier to say yes."

"Even after all of that, you got married, too? I mean, not judging here, just…"

Kris shrugs. "She wanted to get married. All her friends were getting engaged, and she basically told me that we were going to do it too. A lot of the time, I felt like I was keeping all these secrets and it was kind of unfair to her, so I tried extra hard to make her happy."

"I don't think a gay husband made her very happy. Obviously." Adam smirks a little, but with less venom than he's previously displayed.

"Yeah, I don't know. I was young. But that's not why we got divorced. She wanted me to do music, but she didn't really like it once all this happened. It wasn't what she signed on for, I guess."

"So are you going to come out?"

Kris looks at his hands. "I ask myself that question all the time. I don't know. No one even knows I'm gay except you." He pauses for a second, twisting his fingers together. He's never said it out loud before, and it sounds much less strange than he'd feared.

Adam leans over and touches Kris's knee. "That's the first time, isn't it?"

How he knows other than some kind of gay telepathy, Kris doesn't understand, but he nods anyway, because, as Adam pointed out, they're wearing each other's bodies and there's really no point in being private.

"Well, I'm honored to be your first," he says, and the smirk is back. "And it should go without saying, but I won't tell anyone. All that stuff has to come in its own time."

"Thanks, man. So… How did you come out?"

Adam smiles and tells him.

~*~

By half past eleven, they're slumped on the couch, bored of sharing life stories. Kris is flipping channels in search of the Colbert Report and Adam is dozing a little. Kris turns the volume down a little and tries not to wake him. He's operating on next to no sleep, after all, and even though he knows by now that Adam's the kind of guy who can party every night for a week, it's been a fucked up day and if anyone deserves rest, it's them.

Kris is extremely thankful that this happened during a two-nights-in-a-row hotel stop, because sneaking Adam – himself – on the bus would have been a bitch. They'd had a couple of close calls with people wanting to check on Kris, but Adam had gotten rid of them with hushed assurances and convincing retching. But they have the whole night ahead of them to wait until some woman does some spell. Kris is a pretty pragmatic guy, and it's really hard to rely on _magic_ of all things. But all he needs is a look in the mirror to realize that sometimes things are beyond his ken.

He doesn't realize it at the time, of course, but he must drift off too, as the next thing he's aware of is a sickening jolt, which is like Adam described it – that phantom sense of falling turned up a notch.

He startles awake and looks down. He's himself. All of him.

Kris runs into the bathroom and flips on the lights, examining himself from every angle. He hurries back to the couch and shakes Adam, who is now Adam again. "Wake up! We're back!"

Adam stirs, squinting at the light from the open bathroom door, but then he sits up as realization sets in. "We're back!" he echoes.

He gets off the couch and opens his arms. Even though they've hardly touched the whole day, Kris falls into his arms like it's the most natural thing in the world, planting his face into Adam's shoulder and just clinging.

Then all of a sudden, Adam's pulling him back and leaning down enough to kiss him. As weird as the day's been, this part sort of makes sense. He wasn't expecting it, but now that it's happened, he realizes it couldn't have gone any other way. Everything was leading up to this moment. And wow. _Wow_.

First, Adam's lips are just a gentle press, but then Kris sighs a little and Adam's tongue is sliding across his lips, tracing the seam of his mouth with tiny strokes like a paintbrush. Kris opens easily, letting Adam trace the line where lip becomes mouth before slipping their tongues together with a shiver-inducing slowness.

Adam pulls away far too quickly, and Kris heaves a deep breath. "I've wanted to do that for so long, but I knew if I tried to kiss my mouth with your mouth or whatever, you'd just turn me down," Adam tells him, leaning down to butt their foreheads together.

That startles a chuckle from Kris and he admits, "Probably. Also, wow. I did _not_ expect that."

"So, is that a yes to the gay thing?"

Kris smacks him lightly in the arm, which turns into a caress. "Yes. Not that it was in doubt after watching your movies, but reality definitely lives up to fantasy."

Adam's grin turns feral again and he says, "Weren't we going to discuss that? You watching me fuck other boys and wishing it was you?"

Kris groans. His dick is impossibly hard and he has the very shocking yet welcome realization that he's probably going to have sex. With Jack Swallow. No, with _Adam_ who is so much more than just a hot – really fucking hot – porn star. He's someone that Kris genuinely likes and, despite all odds, enjoyed spending the day with.

There are a lot of things he wants to say. Stupid girly things about how this is kind of sudden, and it'll be his first time with a guy, and how he doesn't want to have sex and then never see each other again, but he's not an idiot. He's not going to show a gift horse cock the door.

So he just says, "I don't want to discuss it. I want you to fuck me so I don't have to imagine it anymore."

Adam groans and smashes his mouth against Kris's so hard that Kris tastes blood, but it's _perfect_. He couldn't really picture this before because all of Adam's sex appeal and swagger were wrapped up in Kris's body and the whole thing was so incongruous that it couldn't be fathomed. However, now Adam is himself. The entire package. And the package is making Kris weak in the knees with its incredibly talented, secretly freckled mouth.

Kris doesn't realize he's being propelled backward until he's falling and the bed is under him. Adam drops on top of him on all fours, and looks into his eyes for a couple beats past comfortable. "You've never done this before," he says, a statement not a question. "Is there anything you want? Requests? I'm pretty experienced," he finishes with a small smile.

There are lots of things that Kris can think of, but he says, "I just want you to be you. I don't want some porn experience." He gulps, wishing there was a way to say what he wants to say without sounding like a tool, but there isn't, so he just says, "I don't want to have sex with Jack Swallow. I want to have sex with Adam."

Adam ducks his head, and Kris can see his throat work as he gulps. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he says, low and honest.

Kris isn't really good with emotional scenes, so he arches up and licks Adam's neck from his collarbone to his earlobe. That shoots the touchy-feely crap to hell – thank _fuck_ \- and Adam drops his pelvis onto Kris's, scraping against him in a slow grind. They kiss again, and this time it's just dirty; a kiss made of tongues and spit and heat. And through it all, Adam keeps up the maddening pressure of their bodies, and Kris realizes he's rutting against Adam, frantic and on the cusp of orgasm already.

"You have to… You have to slow down," he pants, looking away, embarrassed. "I can't…"

"Yes you can," Adam says, his voice harsh and desperate, as he snakes a hand in between their bodies to grip Kris's dick. And just like that, Kris comes in his pants like a teenager, shaking and stuttering under Adam.

When he comes down off it, Adam is still on top of him, laving his throat with broad swipes of his tongue. "I'm… I'm sorry, I…" Kris tries to explain, but Adam shushes him.

"Just taking the edge off. It's been a really intense day," Adam says, a violent understatement. But Kris is beyond relieved and he tries to calm his breathing.

Adam kisses him on the lips quickly, just a little peck, and smiles down into his face. "You thought I was done with you? Silly boy."

Before Kris can comment, Adam gets up and pulls his shirt over his head in a smooth motion that Kris has seen him do hundreds of times. It's a little surreal, but after having spent the day in someone else's body, it's hard to shock him now.

Then Adam starts undoing his pants, and Kris stops thinking so much. Adam shimmies them off and stands there naked, looking about a million times better than on Kris's laptop screen because he's freckly and tousled and his makeup has all been rubbed away, and he's just a guy. A really, really fucking hot guy, but still.

Then Adam leans back over Kris, attacking his shirt and pants, stripping him down with fingers made clumsy with impatience, and then he's really just a guy. Just Adam, who is apparently as eager to have sex with Kris as Kris is with him, which is the biggest turn-on of all.

Adam gets him naked, and Kris is already starting to get hard again, his dick still slick with come. And then Adam slides down his body and licks Kris's cock in one long stripe, tasting him, tasting what he _did_ to Kris, and Kris can't do anything but wind his fingers into Adam's hair and try not to pull.

He doesn't want to be disloyal to Katy, but honestly, it's like he's never really had a blowjob before until this moment. Adam's mouth is big and deep and eager, and he works Kris over like it's the most wonderful thing he's ever gotten to do. He slides and twists, and Kris has to tug his hair to get him to stop because it feels way too fucking good.

"What is it, baby?" Adam asks, his voice a bit gravelly.

"Unless you were planning to take the edge off twice…"

Adam grins. "We're just getting started."

Then, despite Kris's earlier protests that Adam couldn't just fling him around, Adam does just that, landing Kris on his stomach with an easy move. When Kris feels Adam's hands on his ass cheeks, he clenches involuntarily because he knows what's coming. He _knows_ , and even though Katy's oral skills weren't on par with Adam's, she'd at least given him the experience of getting his dick sucked. But he's watched enough porn to know what's coming and it's not something he and Katy tried out.

Before he can squeak out something that would undoubtedly be embarrassing, Adam's spreading him wide with large hands, and pressing his tongue to Kris's hole. Kris yelps a little and squirms against his mouth because he's never felt anything even close to this before. He tickles and burns all at once, and he's gasping, unable to take a deep breath. By the time Adam presses a finger against him, he's begging for it, desperate and piteous even to his own ears.

"Have you got any lube?" Adam asks him, and Kris can't do anything but grunt unintelligible syllables, because for some reason, it's suddenly become urgently important that he get _something_ in his ass, and he can't be answering stupid questions when he's in _need_ like this.

Adam leaves him for a moment, rummaging in his not-a-purse that he brought, and comes up with condoms and lube. Kris is relieved because he didn't want to have to be a total square and ask about a condom because he so doesn't know how to do that suavely, but he's not a total idiot, and he's not going to let a porn star fuck him bareback.

Then cool liquid is dribbling down the crack of his ass and Adam's spreading it with gentle fingers, swirling it over his ass but never pressing inside. Kris gets impatient and pushes back against him, searching for more pressure.

Adam obliges him, pressing a slick finger into his ass and letting him rock on it, panting. He's probably the most vulnerable he's ever been, and despite the fact that he's only really known Adam for a handful of hours, he can't imagine it being anyone else there with him.

Then Adam pushes a second finger in with the first, and there's some pain, but it's got a happy edge to it that makes him want Adam to hurt him just a little more. But Adam goes slow, terribly slow, working him open until there's nothing left but that feeling of full that he _needs_ like he needs to breathe.

"Please, please now," Kris begs, not even really sure what it is he's begging for.

"I gotta go slow or I'll hurt you. You're new at this, and I'm big," Adam says. His voice is steady, conversational, like they're talking about the weather instead of Kris's asshole, and Kris feels almost angry that Adam's so together while Kris has fallen completely apart.

But then, finally, Adam's rolling on the condom and pressing against Kris's body. Adam hooks one arm under Kris, lifting his hips clear off the bed, holding him at just the right angle, and then he's slipping inside. And _Jesus_ , Adam was right to go slowly because 'big' is a gross underestimation.

There's plenty of lube, though, and Adam got him as ready as he could have been. And even though it hurts, enough that Kris scrunches his eyes shut and almost maims a pillow with his nails, it feels _real_ somehow. Like nothing else ever has before.

And that's when Adam loses the composure that he's held onto so tightly, pushing into him with a drawn-out moan that sounds like he's the one in pain. They move slowly at first, shallow inching thrusts that work Kris open, but before long, Adam's grip around his pelvis becomes crushing and his thrusts become deep and manic. Kris holds on tight, letting Adam push him against the headboard until he needs to brace himself or risk breaking his neck.

Kris is so hard it hurts, and every slide of Adam's cock inside him builds the pressure. He wants to touch himself, but he needs both hands to keep himself from being concussed against the headboard. Luckily Adam reads his mind and adjusts his death grip on Kris's hips so that he can grab hold of Kris's cock and stroke it. It only takes a few pulls before he's shooting all over the nice clean hotel bed, yelping with each pulse through his body.

It's barely over when Adam's drilling him hard, driving himself towards release. Kris pushes back against the headboard, giving Adam everything he has, and when Adam comes, Kris can _feel_ the way his cock jumps as he shoots.

Kris collapses right into the wet spot, but he doesn't even care. Adam follows him down, easing out of Kris's ass, which is a really terrible feeling. Kris whimpers a little and Adam strokes his side like a cat. Adam gets up and Kris hears the crinkle of the trash bag as Adam tosses the condom. Then water runs and Adam comes back a few seconds later with a wet washcloth. Kris thanks him and wipes his stomach off, but then decides he'd better go to the bathroom for further ablutions.

Adam flops down on the dry half of the bed looking sleepy and pleased with himself. Shaking his head, Kris goes into the bathroom and cleans himself thoroughly, wincing at the tenderness. He flips off the lights, plunging the room into near-darkness. When he goes back to the bed his eyes have adjusted enough to see that Adam has flipped the sheet over the wet spot, and he extends an arm to Kris.

Kris rolls onto the bed – carefully – and unabashedly snuggles into Adam's arms. "So, really definitely gay?" Adam asks, and Kris laughs.

"Congratulations. You sealed the deal," Kris says, a little sleepy himself. Then, in a fit of girly panic, he says quietly, "Are you going to leave?"

Adam squeezes him closer. "Nope. We still have to figure out who we can thank for this turn of events."

"Oh, we're thanking people who put spells on us now?"

"In this case, I'm making an exception," Adam tells him, and Kris grins in the dark. "Besides, I kind of want to hang out with a rock star for a little while. Maybe I can learn something."

"Not a rock star," Kris mumbles. "And I thought you said you could sing better than I can."

"Well, it's a matter of taste, of course," Adam says, full of false modesty.

"Sing me something now," Kris requests, his eyelids heavy.

"You want me to sing you to sleep?" Adam teases. But then he takes a breath and starts singing quietly, building up into a beautiful song about black holes and revelations, which is very appropriate for this night, Kris thinks.

And his voice is sort of unreal. Lying in bed, without even getting a fraction of the projection Kris suspects he's capable of, Adam's voice is haunting. Mesmerizing.

When he finishes, squeezing Kris on the last refrains of wanting to hold someone in his arms, Kris almost wants to laugh. Maybe he's just slap-happy, but he can't help feeling giddy.

"You're amazing," he finally says, not an adequate compliment, but he's sort of wrung-out. "You know, you should try out for American Idol," he says with a little chuckle.

Kris feels Adam grin against his temple, and his breath ruffles Kris's hair as he says, "Not on your fucking life."

~The End

 **An Epilogue… Of Sorts**

Kris and Adam officially met backstage at the Indianapolis Idol show, according to what they tell everyone. No one knows that Kris booked Adam's flight to Indianapolis from the hotel bed in Topeka while Adam was giving him head so incredible that Kris could barely type 'expedia' let alone enter his credit card information.

They're never entirely sure how they ended up switching bodies, but based on some rumors that fly around on the internet after they start seeing each other in public, they're pretty sure they can blame it on a stalker baggage handler in Denver who played around on Kris's laptop and saw his history. They never verify it, but they promise that if they ever do, they'll send him a fruit basket.

Kris's family and friends take it as well as could be expected at first, but after they meet Adam, they get it. Kris's mom never _fully_ gets over the porn thing, even though Adam never makes another movie again. But she loves Adam and calls him 'one of her boys.' Eventually, she watches a little bit of _Ass-Pirates of the Caribbean_ , and then she mostly understands.

After they're together a year, Adam finally lets Kris talk him into making an album. Once he's convinced that Kris won't think he's taking advantage of Kris's fame or something silly like that. Since he's a porn star – former – no one is shocked by the fact that it's over-the-top club music about fucking boys, and he does amazingly well. So does Kris, for that matter, as Adam really helps with breaking the whole 'American Idol image' thing.

They spend as much time as they can together, but – unlike Katy – they knew what they were getting into. When they have to be apart, they do sickeningly sweet things like wearing necklaces they bought for each other, or dropping little code phrases into interviews that mean "I miss you," and "I love you," and "when I get home, I'm going to ravish you." When they can't make it to each other's shows, they sing REO Speedwagon songs to each other, because it makes them laugh. The fans pick up on this immediately, of course, so if Kris does "Keep On Loving You" or if Adam does "Can't Fight This Feeling," in concerts, Twitter explodes.

They never tell anyone how they really met, but they talk about it to each other sometimes, and Kris laments the fact that he didn't let Adam do anything while they were swapped, because in retrospect, it would have been kind of hot. Adam offers to see about a spell to switch them again, but Kris doesn't want to tempt fate.

Fate's been damn good to him so far.


End file.
